Journey of Solomon (Draft)
by renjithetenken
Summary: A remnant crusader named Solomon is on the search for a purpose in life.


The Journey of Solomon

By

Steven Li

The world was dying. It was not due to natural causes, but rather to humanity folding upon itself in numerous ways. Ever since religion was brought upon man, the peace and prosperity soon turned into endless war and famine. Many innocent people were displaced and multiple religions started holy wars and crusades upon one another. Of course, that was only the start of when the world started to die. Perhaps the world was already rotten from the inside, but many of those who fought so hard learned that it was truly humanity which was rotten on the inside.

Through numerous wars raging throughout the years, there would always be something produced. Razed villages, orphaned children, but most commonly, insane remnants of broken armies. These crusaders of broken armies were hunted by the victors, branded heretics by rival churches, and disillusioned by faith. Former "holy" soldiers would travel the scorched earth until they collapsed and died; they would be either slain by rival religions, commit suicide, or die from exposure to the harsh elements. Their bones spread across the lands ravaged by endless conflict.

Solomon was not special when it came to the throngs of remnant crusaders left over from the Dead Isles. **(OW)(HERO/CHARACTER)** An average man at an average height with a similar build to the rest. He was a prime example of a hardened soldier. Even when looking upon his body one could see the scars of campaigns long fought. Perhaps what was the only difference between him and the others would be the unfettering faith that he once held; long gone by now. From his lifeless blue eyes, there was no sparkle since days long gone.

The only thing accompanying the sulking crusader would be the mocking shadow under him. Perhaps it was just his mind… perhaps it was really the shadow.

"God meets you while dying, yet abandons you while living? Perhaps you'd be better off ending this pain with your own blade," the shadow said, leaning upon a fencepost. "Maybe someday a native of the swamp will bury your bones, ravaged by the the wildlife indigenous around this forsaken land." **(THE SHADOW/CHARACTER)(CREATURE OF NIGHTMARE/CHARACTER)**

"Perhaps the idea of meeting God isn't so bad," Solomon responded while he continued trudging along a random path defined by his boots, "He certainly has not blessed his forces during the last 5 years of the crusade…" He looked to his left and then to his right, resolving to finally cross the stream.

While Solomon thought over the act of meeting God forcibly, he found himself alone within the center clearing of a swamp. The surprising result of a trail blazed carelessly through uncharted lands untouched by man. Such a clearing was rare to see as the vast overhang of trees spanned for miles, at least to his knowledge. With the voice of the shadow silent and a clearing found within the darkness of the swamp, it was perfect for Solomon to think clearly about the campaign in detail and pray for a final time.

"Please God, if there is hope for humanity and this decaying Earth… send a messiah to absolve the sins of humanity," trailed Solomon in deep prayer, "Nothing is worth more to any crusader than a balance of power and faith along with a peaceful reign to serve under." The silence following his prayer only enhanced the sound of his blade rattling as he slowly put his hand upon the scabbard, preparing an end to his all too short of a life. _Perhaps such an end was befitting for a soldier without an army, a priest without a God, or a man without a purpose_ , Solomon had thought.

At the very moment that Solomon's blade touched his breastplate, suddenly an angel adorning godly armor came sailing down towards the clearing. The armor adorned by the angel was with golden accents and sported a maximilian fluted design. The steel was polished and showed no signs of battlefield grit; even the hue would be called godlike. A set of armor like it was only befitting for the holy being capable of razing cities in seconds. **(MENTOR/CHARACTER)**

"Stay your blade, for God has answered your prayers," started the angel, "My name is Mikhail, servant and speaker of Gods. **(CA)** You are known to be the last crusader from the now-known Dead Isles; I understand that you may have lost faith, but I assure you that God has a plan," the angel known as Mikhail put his hand upon the sullen crusader's shoulder and whispered into his ear, "The Gods tell me that you shall become a new messiah and bring the world into salvation…"

Out of nowhere the beautiful angel adorning his heavenly armor was suddenly greeted by a fountain of red. **(COLOR/SYMBOLIC)(R)(SUPERNATURAL INTERVENTION/SYBOLIC)** "I reject the offer, I have never been one to follow ideals," Solomon breathed heavily, "those are days long gone by now. I know well not to be involved in another crusade. Religion was meant to save, but it has driven the world into a decayed shadow of its former glory. Nations reduced to ash and believers bathed in the blood of one another. See here," Solomon said with his last breath, "I refuse and would rather die without glory than be subject to the command of a God who has allowed all that to happen."

 **(UNHEALABLE WOUND/SITUATIONAL)** "But you cannot die," whispered forth a voice from the beautiful angel, "God will not permit you to live a simple life after you have been chosen. Solomon of the Dead Isles, you have a choice to embrace your unending life within a decayed world, or travel upon the road of the messiah by saving the world for all of humanity." Mikhail turned his head and stared Solomon dead in the eyes and said, "Your pain shall symbolize your existence in this world for now. Be sure to call into the heavens if you see that you are fit and ready to be the messiah." **(THE FALL/SITUATIONAL)** The angel Mikhail finally moved and flew off.

The day turned gray and Solomon's face was contorted with pain. He knew that he found a purpose, yet he did not have the will to continue with another crusade. Solomon accepted that he would have to live with an impaled chest, so he slowly drew the blade out; walking along through his journey would be a painful and unending experience. The days turned into night and night into day, forever in a cycle until the silence would be broken by the screams coming from one damned village after the next. Time had unknowingly passed and not even Solomon could count the days that he had lived. A sharp tongue was all it took to break the seemingly endless silence.

"Well you really did do it didn't you?" The shadow said as he followed Solomon attentively. "You went up against Mikhail and made a fool of yourself. You became the messiah by accident and you will never find salvation in your form, but you will forever lead others to it." The shadow slowly started to grin and laugh maniacally, "Hahahahahahaha, what a pleasant journey you shall have. Be sure to not stray too far from your path and die… Wait… You can't can you?" **(THRESHOLD GUARDIAN/CHARACTER)**

"DAMN IT!" Solomon screamed. "God must be insane to make me into the messiah that I longed to follow. I do not see the light in this situation and perhaps never will," Solomon winced in agony as he was sewing the impalement wound on his chest shut, "I admit defeat," sighed Solomon as he came to the realization that his only reason for living was a purpose given to him by God.

"So you accept the gift then?" Mikhail appeared from thin air, whispering into Solomon's ear, "I can teach you purpose and a great deal of things. **(M)** You will never truly learn your purpose unless you follow the path of fate. You may as well join me." It was indeed both frightening and amazing seeing how devilish a true angel could be. "I must warn thee first," Mikhail's eyes grew serious as he spoke, "there will be tests of faith that you must steel yourself against. Not only that, but the blood of many shall stain your hands evermore."

Solomon had fully accepted his fate by then through pain. It was not out of the goodness of his heart, but rather his for human nature in attempt to get rid of the infinite pain of every wound he endured throughout his life. By divine punishment, he would be driven to do the will of the Gods by order of his newfound comrade and teacher, Mikhail. It would only be the start of an everlasting journey. **(THE QUEST/SITUATIONAL)**

Journeying along with his newfound friend, Solomon continued his journey by foot through the desert, unknowingly mirroring his previous journey as a crusader through the very same lands. **(T)** The sand was not marked, but no man alive could forget the scorching heat and breathtaking view during the journey. Sand would blow through and hit his armor, producing a mesmerising sound. An unforgettable sound that crusaders of old knew all too well while venturing through former battle-torn landscapes. Through the scorching heat of day and the frosty nights of the desert, Solomon knew that this was the way towards the closest established city, but he did not know how long it would take to reach that distance. Luckily for him and his companion, they had no way to die even if exposure occurred.

"There is smoke over there, perhaps an encampment of knights." **(T/A/E)** Solomon observed and decided to walk towards the smoke, "perhaps there are soon-to-be companions that will accompany me through this journey." In the deepest recesses of his mind, Solomon thought, " _I hope that they are not dead men yet, this heat is enough to kill unlucky stragglers of former armies."_ He would continue to walk until he found the origin of such smoke.

"We are the blades of Arroyo and I am Fredrick," gruffly stated a knight in blackened armor. **(THE INITIATES/CHARACTERS)** "We were sent by other cities for the same task of annihilating a village of lepers up North. You adorn the armor of a great knight that served in the crusades, what is your name and would you care to accompany us on our task?"

While thinking of a correct answer, Solomon analyzed the armor of the group in front of him. Their armor was a transitional design emblazoned by their family crests and excessive amounts of godly depictions; only the wealthy could afford the luxuries of engraved armor during the previous crusades in the Dead Isles. The apparel alone had put Solomon to ease as he could tell that these men were extremely devoted to God and had a respect for holy beings such as the one standing right next to him, Mikhail. **(LOYAL RETAINERS/CHARACTERS)**

"I am God's Messiah, Solomon, I shall join if it means that the threat of pestilence shall be ended." Solomon felt embarrassed to have said such a line, but it was truthful as the verification of his holiness stood right behind him. If only Mikhail could actually conceal his wings for once. "When do we move out towards this settlement, and what is it called?"

"It is called… Arroyo…" The worthy knight and his peers fell silent as they were clearly in pain from their order, yet were too honorable to go against it. "We must do our home one last service before it is too late and the sickness spreads across the world. Many innocent lives will be taken, but such a task is a necessary sin to risk for a better world." Undoubtedly this man, Fredrick, was the most honorable and devoted of his peers. In such an age, it was extremely rare for this type of man to have existed. After all, those who were too righteous and devoted would fill the graves at first sundown of every battle during the crusades.

Thus with the location of the task and the knights introduced to the new messiah, Solomon was able to befriend a group of 20 knights and gain knowledge of a holy deed. These knights would also walk with Solomon for an eternity until their time for salvation came. It was the will of God and they would feel no fatigue travelling to the village of lepers, Arroyo. Such a walk through the scorching desert at midday would have killed any man, but with the divine protection of Mikhail and the sanctity of the mission, the men walked under the sun as if it were a cool breeze in harvest-time. Their goal, Arroyo, was just the beginning.

The city of Arroyo was not just any city within the desert, it was once known as the one oasis, or more commonly known as, "The Gem of the Desert." It was a trading capital that drew all sorts of crowds, but that was only a small part of the real beauty in regards to the entirety of the city. The architecture and biblical accounts from within the city made it a mecca for pilgrims from all over the world. Sadly, this was not to last as the city housed criminals and contained some of the most corrupt politicians in the world, whose heinous acts could only be whispered within the courts. Not even the sleekest of the criminals could avoid the original judgement of God, leprosy. Innocent and wicked were all tried by the same judge, death. What was once Arroyo was just a shell of its former glory, now host of a plague once thought driven off into extinction.

The sun was high in the sky and the temperature started to rise as midday had come at last. The knights along with their savior had trudged through the desert for five days and five nights. In the five days and five nights, there was much learned and many friends made, yet all roads led to the Oasis of Arroyo at that point. Within the bleakness of the desert, the famed city would be soon judged by the messiah along with the angel Mikhail. **(WATER V. DESERT/SYMBOLIC)**

"This is a test of your pure faith Messiah," Mikhail urged through his honeyed words, "The city of the damned is within your power to judge and bring to salvation. Cast upon the holy flame of judgement and raze the city to the ground." Mikhail smiled, "I know you shall make the right choice and bring along a new age for this land."

"I hope that no bad shall come of this, else I will bear the sins of murder," Solomon changed his expression into such befitting of a leader, "We must cleanse this city for those who shall emerge from the ashes of this old, decayed world. It is our only purpose to prepare those for the coming of salvation." He slowly turned his head towards Fredrick, the leader of the former knights of Arroyo and slowly nodded. "Burn the city."

The orange glow of the city could be seen from afar. No words could describe the scene of torches lighting the once treasured city on fire. The simple act of aggression described as an act of deliverance proved to work well on those who bore the task of serving God. Screams and the smell of ashes permeated the once coveted trade mecca now turned city of lepers. Innocent or not, the holy blaze was to bring all to salvation.

The party of men would continue staring at the smoldering heat throughout the night, forced to steal jewelry and food from the newly deceased just to cover travel expenses. Many of the victims varying from acquaintances to even family members of the knights themselves. Those who could not bear the burden collapsed on their knees, becoming the famed remnant crusaders, doomed to a sad fate of their own making. The rest would live unfulfilled lives and suffer the endless nightmares customary for the guilty. Nobody knew their heavenly judgement would result in such trauma.

"My blade has been stained for the glory of God many times over now," Solomon repeated as if it were the thousandth time, "I believe that bringing these innocent bystanders to their graves is a price too much to pay as a test of my will, what say you?" he had spat at the ground near Mikhail's well polished sabatons. "I know that I have done my part in destroying numerous cities before, what makes this one different?"

"Brother, I believe that you have done much in finding a purpose while curing the pain you feel inside," Mikhail slowly adjusted his head towards Solomon. "It seems that God has left you with your final task. Your contributions to salvation are all but empty, God just needs you to bring upon judgement in his glory. For his final task he has asked us to clear the bastion of traitors led by King Solumn within the walled city of Sharaf." His voice did not falter, "Tis truly a task worthy enough for a messiah to bear. We may embark when our numbers are greater and time allows." **(THE TASK/SITUATIONAL)**

Such news sung from beautiful lips would not be unheard for long. Soon enough, the group of men quickly learned the news about the task of besieging the great city. Troop morale took a drop to the lowest point accompanied by the horrid nightmares from Arroyo. Many men doubted that even a Messiah could break the strong walls. Such a party needed to be sent a proper sign from the heavens before they would even attempt besiege the great city. None could blame the wariness of the knights after their act of brutality on the formerly coveted trade city. They would start to camp near the ruined city in order to come up with the next move.

On the fifth night after the holy fire smoldered throughout Arroyo, a nightmare had come to the sleeping Solomon, messiah of the Dead Isles. **(A)** A dream bringing deathly insight to the party entrusted to bringing salvation upon the land. A dream capable of driving even the messiah into cold sweat.

"I see you have not conversed with me since the day you became the messiah," the shadow sighed deeply, "It would be my mistake to underestimate your uses when it comes to the Gods manipulating you. Perhaps you should give up after all; the lives you took in Arroyo should haunt you for the rest of your days." The shadow's lips curled up and he let out a haunting cackle, "hahahahahaha." **(CREATURE OF NIGHTMARE/CHARACTER)**

Solomon angrily attempted to swipe at the shadow, yet no blade would be in his hand. Although he was the master of his dreams, he was not the master of his nightmares. With his hand at bay, Solomon spoke, "I shall not waste the second chance I have been given by the lord. Unless you provide me with the information I require to rally my troops, begone!" Though blinded by rage, he stared straight into the eyes of the shadow, unphased even with the fact that he had no control over his own dream.

"You prowess with words pairs very well with the sharp tongue you possess." The shadow strategically decided to concede to Solomon at that point, "Very well, I shall grant you knowledge of the future. Your army shall grow, yet your character shall not. Your troops will be slain, but you shall not. Thus is the fate of any man becoming an indentured servant to the heavens, but fear not, for you shall take the walled city. Bathed in the blood of your allies in the task you shall be if you walk this path. Perhaps you do not want to be the prophesied savior now. Heed me now and you may yet save the lives of many in the future."

At the very end of the Shadow's sentence, Solomon woke up with sweat glistening upon his face and fully awake in the middle of the night. He knew that the message was grim, yet it gave him hope that such a fate of redemption was true for him and his men. He had to choose to either give up his battle and be live as a coward, or continue on a bloody path for God and sending his men to their deaths. Knowing that the shadow had lied to him once, he decided to entertain the idea of a siege. Acknowledging the camp was filled with endless terrors and constant guilt, it was only natural for Solomon to attempt at increasing morale so they could take the ancient city. He utilized the grim prediction as a guide and would stir the feelings of his men and ask them to take up arms once again for the final trial, taking steps to insure the men would not know of their own fate should they accept the decision.

When morning came, Solomon rallied his men under the banner of the messiah. He spoke the honeyed words provided while the angel Mikhail would confirm the truth of his statements. With the troops rallied under the pretense of taking the city, the army would move towards a multitude of cities surrounding Jerusalem and gain recruits along the way.

When it came to young men looking for fortune and glory through war, many hoped that through joining Solomon's party they would become the landed gentry. This was not the case as Solomon knew that he would be sending many of these men to their deaths. In the end Solomon amassed an army of 145 footsoldiers, 68 archers, and 32 cavalrymen. Each independent soldier had their own reasons for joining, but many of their stories were the same.

Around a 3 months after the confrontation of his shadow, Solomon amassed a grand and motivated army. **(O)** Unified effort to bring down the heretical city headed by King Solumn rose the morale through the roof. Much so that even those who received meager rations would rejoice at being a part of the messiah's army. The march finally led to the gates of Sharaf, holy city of the world, but the capital of heretics.

"Surrender and you are free to let the heavens above judge you!" Solomon shouted at the gates and continued, "I bring men willing to besiege your great walls, and a promise that they shall be penetrated. You have but one option to be at our mercy, or perish from the holy flames." Solomon ended his statement by turning back without waiting for a response.

"..." Silence ensued for a good ten minutes before a response from a wall-watchman came, "Solomon of the Dead Isles, your crusaders died like the dogs they were and you should have followed." He took a deep breath and continued, "Besiege us and we will be sure to dig dishonored graves for you army of the damned."

At that moment the siege upon the great city of Sharaf had begun. The first ladders were knocked down by the guardsmen, but the troops of Solomon were never discouraged. Hundreds of men rallied to defend the walls of Sharaf, but were no match for the siege towers and engines created by the holy army. No man or machine could stop Solomon's army bolstered by their beliefs in God. The holy army's presently victorious status would set the gears towards a darker turn of fate though.

At first Solomon and his men encountered disease. Poisoned wells outside the city became common and caused his men to die agonizing deaths tenfold that of impalement. God turned slowly in favor of the walled city as Solomon realized that his fate was approaching him fast. The next trial he and his men faced were the stray arrows that always hit their mark. Dozens of his men were slain through these fated arrows guided in their quest to eliminate instrumental figures in his army. This lasting onslaught would continue throughout the month following the siege.

The last straw occurred when Fredrick, Knight of Arroyo, caught a laced arrow in the breast. Solomon could only turn his head long enough to hear the last words of his comrade-in-arms, "Forgive me father for I have sinned…" These words would etch themselves in the heart of Solomon forever. The mighty knight Fredrick had fell in battle and the siege was good as lost. Without a commander for the knights and resources running low, it was time for a change. Solomon would enter head-on and bear the pain of unending death and feel the pain of a thousand lifetimes. The pain would never be as much as what he felt losing his ally to the heretics within Sharaf. Not even the glorious Mikhail could cure this predicament in Solomon's heart.

"Mikhail, I have asked very little of you throughout this campaign, but I require a favor." Solomon asked warily.

"What is it you require, great messiah and deliverer of salvation?" Mikhail said matter-of-factly.

Solomon looked intently into Mikhail's eyes. "I require heavenly judgement upon Sharaf. There has never been a greater sacrifice that I have made for fate. I sacrificed my friends and my allies all for the sake of salvation, I ask that God pays back in earnest with the value of bodies within the city of Sharaf!"

"So be it. I believe you already have paid the price for this miracle." Mikhail answered as he started to call upon the clouds above for the divine judgement.

The land shook as Mikhail called upon the divines to bestow a blow upon the city under siege. The city of heretics and where their leader King Solumn ruled. From out of the clouds burst condensed energy which resulted in holy fire consuming the city. Smoke covered the city and shrieks flooded the air. Acknowledging this as a divine miracle could be said to be heresy itself. Such attrition was equal to that of evil, yet the righteous went along with it.

In the end, there was nothing. The ashes of a thousand innocent who were said to be brought into salvation were no different from the ashes of a thousand heretics said to be judged in hell. The queen of Sharaf who charmed her way to the throne inviting the heretical religions was no different from the ashes seen after fires smoldered out. **(THE TEMPTRESS/CHARACTER)** In a field of the black ruins of what once was Sharaf, Solomon would line the blades of his men in a fake grave, a body-less grave as the flames consumed all. Solomon would silently mourn for his comrades as would Mikhail, bringer of the divine judgement. _What was the difference between now and at the beginning of the journey?_ Solomon wondered.

The only difference seen was the pronged spear upon the ground. **(REW)** The divine judgement delivered was not just anything, but rather a godly spear. The 3 pronged spear dyed red and seemingly made of ashwood was all it took to make Solomon shake in fear. **(NUMBER 3/SYMBOLIC)** He had lain his eyes upon a holy relic, the Spear of Longinus. A saintly item known to be the slayer of Gods and tool for rebirth. The interwound pieces of blessed steel forming the prongs would grip onto the shaft providing extreme durability along with this power, harnessed by the ashwood flowing with the blood of slain supreme beings. The same ashwood that Solomon held, the Spear of Longinus, slayer of Gods and tool of rebirth **(MAGIC WEAPON/SYMBOLIC)**. It was only fitting that a spear of rebirth be in the hands of a reborn crusader.

"Had I known that fate would part me from my brothers, comrades, allies, I would have done no such thing as brashly stormed the Walled City of Sharaf!" Solomon screamed at the top of his lungs. "Is there ever a price hefty enough to pay for the calming idea of salvation? Perhaps God is mad and wishes to allow beings of his making fight endlessly out of boredom!" Tears would stain his face and the ground while Solomon wailed at the fate which had stricken him and his allies. "For the loss of my only friends in this desolate world, a single stronghold is destroyed… I truly have chosen wrong…"

Mikhail put his hand upon Solomon's shoulder. "..." There was no words spoken, or perhaps no word had reached the grief-struck crusader. The cause of annihilation, Mikhail, in his godly armor which befitted the ancient beings could not have even fathomed the pain which humans would feel when their loved ones died. Mikhail would soon shuffle behind Solomon, following his task a final time.

Human nature would not allow Solomon to throw away such a valuable artifact. He refused to believe that the spear given to him could be simply tossed. The spear was the culmination of sacrifice of his comrades and bathed in the blood of his enemies. No weapon was worthy to replace it, and no man could carry such a burden. The exception to the rule was Solomon, messiah of humanity and crusader for the Dead Isles. Although the spear materialistically could not weigh but a few pounds, the weight of a thousand lives would rest upon Solomon's shoulder for however long he held the spear.

Hours passed as the saddened crusader could bear no longer to look at the barren land, cleansed by the hand of god and his troops. The soil stained by blood like the rest of the world, no matter the location. Solomon had finally clicked his sabatons, turning, and would continue to walk on the path homeward with his last surviving friend, Mikhail, not caring what he would find along the way. **(RB)**

The journey homeward was no easy walk. The duo had to travel through the path they originally walked with their allies. Through the ashes of many cities they would walk, burdened by the guilt and deaths experienced during the siege of Sharaf. Sandstorms and unrelenting heat wore Solomon and Mikhail down, but no matter what, Solomon would not be deterred from travelling homeward. Not even the fact that his only ally left was slowly fading from his memory, and from existence in the God forsaken world they both fought so hard for. He would soon entirely forget his only friend and mentor accompanying him on the journey started so long ago.

"This journey is everlasting is it not?" Solomon stated, expecting an answer while he turned around to look at the person he thought to be present. "Huh, I could have sworn that a friend were to have accompanied me… It is all well, perhaps my mind is just fatigued." Unfortunately Solomon would never again regain knowledge of his ally Mikhail, the closest friend he had yet in the desolate continent he travelled.

"Lost something have you? I would have thought you to have lost your mind outright years ago instead of that angel." A shadowy figure appeared from seemingly nowhere. "Perhaps he never existed to begin with. Maybe as a figment of your imagination."

"Hold your tongue fiend and reveal your true form! I am Solomon of the Dead Isles and you shall show yourself unless you have not the gall to fight me, you monster!"

"I would not taunt you had I been disinterested in clashing blades. After all, I am your shadow; the truest reflection of your inner self. I am your guilt, I am your shadow, and I am you."

It would not take much for Solomon to strike out in anger from the insults hurled at him. Although the first strike usually lands upon an unaware opponent, the Shadow would parry the strike of the holy artifact with a similar and all too well-known triple pronged ashwood spear. The fight resulted in an endless flurry of divine spear-work of both parties, mirroring counters to each jab, slash, and pummel. **(BATTLE BETWEEN GOOD AND EVIL/SITUATIONAL)**

"No longer shall I have nightmares of actions from days long past, no longer shall I regret my decisions that I had no choice but to follow!" Solomon said as he swung his spear erratically and attempted to pierce the Shadow's neck.

"You never cease to attack at the vital points." The Shadow said as he easily parried the blow and countered it with a blow easily twofold the strength of the last. "Perhaps you do not understand, the Gods have used you to bear their sins, and nobody shall remember you. Your purpose is forever lost. Salvation is but a foolish dream brought about by your insanity. Perhaps you have forgotten the crushing defeat during your time in the legion of the Dead Isles."

"No matter the cost, God has given me a purpose and taken it away as he has. I shall be rid of immortality as I have done my part. I wish for the endless pain of humanity to be gone. There is no reason for my existence and I wish for the end of my guilt!" Solomon said as he heaved the Spear of Longinus into the Shadow in attempt to run it through.

"So be it, I see you do not understand." The shadow held up his spear and charged, knowing full well what was about to happen. **(THE EVIL FIGURE WITH ULTIMATELY GOOD HEART/CHARACTER)**

The sounds of bones being crushed and blood splattering all over the floor could be heard across the lands where the duel occurred. Had anyone been spectating, they would see a single body left. A body impaled by the god-slaying Spear of Longinus. It was when the Shadow's spear impaled his heart did Solomon realize he conquered not only his guilt, but had regained his humanity in the process. **(Rebirth)**

Undoubtedly Solomon achieved peace with his inner self and successfully eliminated his guilt, but this final act led him to be gravely wounded in the process. No longer should he be burdened by the shadow, but its words would resonate in his mind evermore. While he still drew breath, Solomon said one last prayer.

"Although no man may hear this, I wish for the Gods to receive my last message. I now understand my true task at hand. I pray to thee end my suffering and life along with it. Perhaps I may journey to purgatory in repentance for my sins which I bear in your name."

As the light of his life flickered, his true purpose to the gods became known to him at last. Solomon's devotion allowed him to shoulder the sins of more than a thousand deaths. He would be one of the few people who knew that the Gods were not merciful beings, but rather fickle ones. All of whom wished for humanity to do their dirty work while gaining all the praise. The Shadow had been right, Solomon probably would be forgotten through time. Only the shadow ever truly cared for the well-being of its original master, Solomon.

Utilizing the last ounce of his strength, Solomon drove the Holy Lance deep into his breastplate and finally pierced his own heart. Not even godly immortality cursed upon him could withstand such a wound from the holy relic. The honorable crusader had finished his task and brought upon salvation to the strongholds of the dying world, enabling the growth new and untainted life to settle in the ashes of the old. His sacrifice would not be known to those who would inhabit the new world, nor would his body and the Holy Lance accompanying it be found ever again, but his actions would never be forgotten. He finally attained the salvation he wished for and along with it, immortality for his actions instead of himself. The world finally begun anew due to the resolve of an insane crusader. **(RE)** A crusader named Solomon.


End file.
